


stolen conversations

by AristeNikkan



Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-28 13:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12607284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AristeNikkan/pseuds/AristeNikkan
Summary: this has been sitting in my drafts for like five months so just. yknow.it's from John's POV. vague poetic drivel like usual since that's all i can write, apparently.





	stolen conversations

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my drafts for like five months so just. yknow.
> 
> it's from John's POV. vague poetic drivel like usual since that's all i can write, apparently.

it starts like most things do, as an offhand comment, a question you thought was rhetorical but maybe it wasn't. either way, it ends up the same way. one thing leads to another.

heavy breath, lips so close to yours and that unbearable heat but it feels so good, so right and you're gasping for him to touch you anywhere, anywhere, put his hands on you you need it more than medicine more than whatever he dug into your arm that day in front of the door you need him more than anything else.

 _save me_ , your fingers say as they dig into his collarbone and hair, tugging him closer.

 _rescue me_ , your closed mouth says as you bury it in his hair and let your body speak for you.

 _make me come alive_ , you think but instead tell him _thank you_ , knowing or just hoping he knows what you mean as you bring his lips to yours to silence yourself. he saved your life that day, but really you were rescued the day he sent that letter to his brother - the brother you love, you need, your _other half_ but you can’t claim him, not like how the doctor lets you claim his body and it’s enough, or you tell yourself he’s enough. not a replacement, god never that; he’s amazing in his own right and despite his meddling you - you _care_ about him and you’re _glad_ it’s his hands on you -

but too soon his breath turns ragged - so does yours but you’re drifting too far away in thoughts of the younger brother and some small part of you hopes he can’t tell - and you wheeze out words of encouragement, affection, anything to get him over the line and he’s _there_ and you are too and then -

then you’re alone.

not physically, he’s tangled around you and deep asleep - but your mind is far away in guilt and longing and… so much else but right now, you’re just tired. you had the wrong brother’s name on your tongue, heavy and fucking _perfect_ and too fucking close to making contact with the warm air. you’re ready to sleep and your last thoughts are that he is enough. he’s so _good_ to you and feels so right and it’s almost enough. almost enough, and you drift off into a dreamless sleep, and wake up on your own with only your guilt to keep you company.


End file.
